There’s a notice on the church door across the street.
When I saw it yesterday I thought, I hope they're holding a bazaar soon.
["I hope there will be a bazaar": photos GAH]
On a day when I’m not too busy would be nice. Nicer still if on that day there are homemade cookies and breads sold at a low price.
I tasted the best bread ever in 1963 or '64. A loaf of it sold for 50 cents and was made by Mrs. Blackburn, a plump, white-haired woman who wore rumpled flower-print dresses whenever she visited the grocery store where I worked. (I was 13 or 14-years old, was paid 50 - 55 cents per hour and will safely say the bread was worth every penny).
["I'll have to get closer to the church door"]
I can close my eyes and still taste it.
If there are baked goods I’ll go, no matter what else I have on the proverbial plate.
If there’s a bazaar.
.
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